


Free Parking

by Mallory Klohn (malloryklohn)



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-10
Updated: 2009-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-02 04:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malloryklohn/pseuds/Mallory%20Klohn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser lures Ray up into the Great White North for a hinterland holiday.  He pretends it's a character-building exercise, but actually, he wants Ray's sweet lovin'.  Who doesn't?  Dude was a sex machine.  Also, reference is made to terrible CanCon.  But no lyrics are quoted, I swear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Parking

** Free Parking **

by Ethan Nelson

Something about the moonlight reminded Ray of the bottom of the ocean.  
This far north, it was brighter than it ever was in the city, a brilliant  
silvery blue not quite intense enough to create shadows. The stars were  
brighter, too, and there were more of them, enough that he was able to  
pick out one or two constellations, even if he couldn't name them.

Though there was no wind to speak of, it was bitterly cold outside.  
Ray was well-padded for this adventure; he felt the temperature in his  
face mainly, but this was a cold that never touched him in Chicago. It  
burned down his throat, it turned his breath to ice on his eyelashes, and  
the puffs of breaths themselves hung suspended in the air like miniature  
clouds.

Deep in the forest, the only sound was the muffled whisper of his movements  
through the snow as he stumbled along in his snowshoes. Well, that and  
the occasional pleased cackle from Ben, whose own passage was silent, though  
he winked in and out of Ray's sight.

Ray had to admit he was enjoying himself, in spite of his best efforts  
to the contrary. The activity was just vigorous enough to keep him warm,  
and just ridiculous enough that he didn't mind his clumsiness; he fell  
at five-minute intervals, and almost invariably lost sight of the Mountie  
before he was up and moving again. After the first half hour, he'd almost  
forgotten the threat of wolves and bears that Ben had warned him of on  
their way out the cabin door. Almost.

If his feet began to feel a little leaden, well, there was always Ben  
to think about instead. Ben was in his glory here, gliding smoothly over  
snow drifts that threw Ray into a roll, stepping nimbly around branches  
that slapped the detective full in the face. For once, Ben was content  
with silence, and Ray let him have his day.

He looked up, and froze. The sky was so clear, so perfect. Though only  
in its first quarter, Ray could see the whole of the moon, shadowed, but  
complete. The stars seemed to go on forever. Sighing, he took a step, and  
promptly hooked the front of one snowshoe into the back of the other. He  
pitched forward into the snow once again, almost without protest.

By the time he'd hauled himself to his feet again, Ben was gone. Ray's  
eyes strained in the darkness. He held his breath, listening for even a  
trace of his friend. He grinned. If Ben _had_ been attacked by a bear,  
he'd probably spend his final moments screamingout instruction for Ray  
to avoid a similar fate.

The silence was absolute. Ray felt like he was stuck in a vacuum of  
cold. He couldn't call out. To do so was to admit he'd fallen again, to  
admit he was lost, to admit -- God forbid-- that he was even a little concerned  
about that. Failing that, Ben would be mortally insulted that Ray had so  
little faith in him. _Damn_. There was no trail to follow (or none  
that he could see) and all he had to go on was a remembered smack upside  
the head and a forced promise to stay where he was if he ever got lost.

_I'm never going to hear the end of this. He's going to use this to  
win arguments until Uncle Dario is taking bets on the four horses of the  
Apocalypse_.

Steeling himself, Ray began to walk again. He had no idea where he was  
going or where he'd come from, but he knew Ben would never leave him like  
this, not even as a joke. He was bound to run into the Mountie at some  
point. He only hoped it happened before he lost his footing and tumbled  
into a ravine.

The cold and the quiet didn't appeal to him now. In spite of the hour,  
the altitude, and the workout, he wondered if his fatigue didn't mean he  
was freezing to death. It would be a terrible thing, to die alone here.  
So quietly, and with no witnesses. His body might never be found; his mother  
would suffer the indignity of flinging herself on an empty casket.

Somehow he knew a solitary demise would appeal to his missing friend.  
If Ray was an elephant, Ben was a cat, sneaking off to die peacefully beneath  
somebody else's porch. Ben might not understand that Ray didn't want to  
go that way. Ben might be halfway back to the cabin by now, convinced this  
was the only way Ray would ever learn. Ben--

"Ray?"

Though he said it quietly, Ray jumped, and would have fallen again if  
Ben hadn't been there with a steadying hand. He stared at his friend. Cold  
became him; Ray was surprised he hadn't noticed that before. His cheeks  
were nicely pink, his eyes bright. He looked... exhilarated.

"Sorry, Ray, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Ah, don't worry about it, Fraser. I mean, I'm gonna be on a pacemaker  
for the rest of my life, but they're a real babe magnet."

Ben took a step back and looked him over. "You're covered in snow."

"I got caught in a freak flurry a little ways back. I never saw nothing  
like that before in my life."

He shook his head. "Are you ready to head back?"

"Are you?"

"Well, if you'd like to continue, Ray--"

"That's not what I'm asking, Benny."

"I could go all night, really, if you wanted--"

"Benny."

He smiled. "What?"

"Do me a favor. Take a stand, just this once. Do you want to stay out,  
or not?"

"Well, I _am_ starting to feel a little cold."

"All right. We go back." Ben turned. "Uh-uh. You lead again."

"Wouldn't you prefer--"

"No. You go first. Just-- sing _Kumbaya_ or something every once  
in a while so I know where you are, all right?"

"Understood."

They walked in silence for a while. Whether reassured by Ben's proximity  
or bolstered by the thought of shedding a few layers of clothing, Ray was  
more graceful on the way back, tripping only occasionally and falling not  
at all.

The lyrics to _Kumbaya_ were apparently too complicated for the  
Mountie, who chose instead to regale Ray with stories of his youth and  
obscure details about the region. Ray contributed as much as he could,  
but there was only so much he could say about the bull moose before he  
_wanted_  
to freeze to death.

"Hey, Benny."

"What, Ray?"

"I want to tell you the Inuit story about the priest, the travelling  
salesman, and the farmer's daughter."

By the time they made it to Ben's cabin, Ray had found his second wind.  
He fairly bounded up to the stoop, unhampered by his snowshoes, the stiffness  
in his joints, or one of Ben's weird stories about lichen. He was about  
to fling himself through the cabin door when Ben touched his shoulder.

"Ray."

The detective met his eyes and drew a breath. Ben wore an enigmatic  
smile, a promising smile, and he was... _was_ he leaning closer? It  
was a surprisingly intimate gesture, for Ben. _All right! He's  
going in!_ Ray licked his lips, and immediately wished he hadn't. They  
froze as soon as his tongue deserted them. Ben was so close, though...  
if he was just a little more on the ball, _his_ mouth could fight  
the good fight. It was the least he could do.

"Take the snowshoes off, Ray," Ben said. "You don't want to track all  
that snow inside."

Ray made a show of looking down at himself. He'd shed some of the snow  
he'd accumulated, but he was still quite a sight. "Benny, I don't want  
to desecrate your home or nothing, but I am _not_ stripping naked  
out here, all right?"

"That won't be necessary, Ray," Ben assured him. "Just the snowshoes.  
Maybe your parka."

Ray watched with amusement as Ben moved a more than ample distance from  
him to remove his own gear. Preoccupied as he was, he didn't seem to notice  
Ray's scrutiny. Ben did everything with such capability and determination.  
It made Ray wonder sometimes if that easy confidence could be put to better  
use. Those hands could tie knots that hadn't been invented yet. They'd  
probably make short work of Ray's button-fly jeans, for example. Ray snorted.  
Ben could probably get Ray's pants off with his hands tied behind his back.  
Preferably with his teeth. _One of these days..._

Sighing, he bent his head to regard his feet. Snow and ice crusted his  
legs right up to the knee. His boots were more implied by their shape than  
visible. He bent to brush off as much of the snow as he could. And noticed  
something he hadn't seen before. "Oh my _God_."

Ben was back at his side instantly, his face a mask of concern. "What  
is it, Ray?"

"These... are _purple_."

The Mountie blinked. "So?"

"So purple is a fruity color, Benny, that's so. What color are yours?"

He winced. "They're red, Ray."

"How come you get to have red, and I get stuck with the fruity color?"

"Oh, for God's sake, Ray. The purple ones are lighter, that's all. It's  
an easier weight for a novice."

"For a _girl_," he said petulantly.

"As it happens, they're generally preferred by women, yes. Just take  
them off." He stomped back to his side of the stoop, muttering under his  
breath.

Ray grinned in the darkness, listening to his friend grumble on about  
how they were thousands of kilometres from anyone Ray even knew, for the  
love of Pete. Ray knelt to remove the snowshoes, less offended by the color  
now that he'd passed that tidbit on to his friend. Even now, mere minutes  
away from warmth and comfort, his hand couldn't master the clasps. He fumbled  
them, and tightened the straps when he should have loosened them, and finally  
tumbled over to land on his ass. _Great. Just great. There goes any shred  
of credibility I ever had_. "Uh... Benny?"

"What is it now?"

Ray closed his eyes briefly. "I can't get them off."

He watched Ben turn and take in the situation. This time the Mountie  
made no move to assist him. "Statistically speaking," he said, "Snowshoe-related  
deaths are very rare. Certainly there _have_ been cases, but none  
to my recall in which the color of the snowshoes played a role. Though  
there _was_ one incident in Hay River--"

"Benny."

"At any rate, Ray, the Inuit believe it's an honor for a man to die  
with his snowshoes on. It's a symbol of his dedication to the wild--"

"_Benny_."

Ben sighed. "Stand up, Ray."

"If I could do that, don't you think I would have?" Ben was silent.  
"Forget it. Just help me up, all right?"

He gripped Ray's hand and pulled him to his feet. "Don't move," he said.  
With that, he bent over Ray's leg and began fumbling with the straps himself.  
Ray smiled in consummate pleasure. With every backward movement, Ben's  
arm rubbed provocatively against Ray's groin. "Ice has formed over the  
straps," Ben said.

"Take your time, Benny," Ray said. "I have faith in you." Ben took him  
at his word and began diligently peeling away the ice. Ray snorted. _You're  
a pig, Raimondo_. Through the many layers of Ray's clothing, Ben would  
never feel his erection, and that was a lucky thing. Probably. _Jesus  
Christ. A little mountain air, some bad coffee, a nice smile, and suddenly  
I'm Chester the Molester_.

No amount of guilt was significant enough to induce Ray to stop Ben  
from his task, however. Some small, more optimistic part of Ray's mind  
mumbled that Ben was taking longer than he had to to get the job done.  
And that would make sense, in a weird, twisted, Ben Fraser way. Ray couldn't  
think of a lot of people who would engage in a passive-aggressive seduction  
on the stoop of their cabins in sub-zero temperatures, but if anybody did,  
it would be Ben.

Of course, Ben wasn't really the seducing type, either. Ben would ask  
permission before he kissed someone. If you wanted Ben's hand in your lap,  
you'd have to put it there. If you wanted him to squeeze, you'd have to  
tell him so. Ray stifled a sigh. The tornado technique was more a Vecchio  
thing. Vecchios flirted. They used innuendo. Ben knew better than anybody  
how that went. If Frannie didn't have his name tattooed on her ass by now,  
it was only because it was too expensive to have it done in color.

"Got one," Ben said. "Step out, Ray." Ray did, and Ben moved around  
him to start in on the other snowshoe. Now Ray had the benefit of Ben's  
left arm instead.

It was an insult to Ben's dignity to think he could be had so cheaply.  
That had been Frannie's mistake, Ray decided. Ben was old-fashioned. He  
was weird. He was the biggest prude Ray had ever seen in his life. You  
couldn't just drop your pants and let nature take its course with Ben.  
No lines, no roses, no meaningful eye contact. If a guy wanted to get anywhere  
with Ben, he had to be subtle. You couldn't woo. You couldn't court. For  
the first time in his life, Ray was employing a certain amount of patience.  
He was willing to wait, if the payoff was big enough.

"Okay!" Ben stood. "You're free," he smiled.

"Thanks," Ray said. "Now can we go inside before I expire?"

"Of course, Ray." Ben opened the door and let Ray enter first.

He stood in the dark while Ben lit the lantern. "How long is it going  
to take to warm up in here?"

"Half an hour at most, I should think. It would help if you took your  
clothes off."

Ray's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"They're icy, Ray. It's going to be awfully cold when it melts."

Ray retreated to the other side of the cabin and started stripping off  
his gear. Ben's back was turned to him as the Mountie followed suit, giving  
Ray another opportunity to admire his friend. By the time he was done,  
Ben was down to a set of thick, form-fitting black long johns and a big  
pair of socks. Ray had barely gotten his snow suit off in the interim.  
As he watched, Ben hung his clothes and started a fire. When the first  
of the flames began to rise, the Mountie turned and gaped at him.

"Ray."

"What?"

"You took your hat off, didn't you? While we were walking."

"I was getting hot." Ben just stared at him. "What?" he said, alarmed.

"I think you've got a bit of frostbite."

"Oh my _God_. What does that mean?"

"It's hard to say," Ben said, examining Ray with concern. "In more severe  
cases, the affected area becomes infected, turns black, and--"

"How bad is it?"

The Mountie came closer. "Come into the light, Ray."

"Come into the light, he says," Ray grumbled, stepping toward his friend.  
"You know, in some parts of the world, it's just there, Fraser. Some people  
don't have a special part of the house where you--"

"Oh dear," he frowned.

"What?"

Ben's face took on a stoic expression. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry  
about."

"_What?_" Ray snatched the lantern from its perch on Ben's table  
and sprinted to the small mirror that hung unobtrusively from one wall  
of the cabin. It was just... Ray. His face was a little pink, maybe his  
ears were slightly closer to red. He rotated his head every which way to  
get a better look. Ben's hands on his ears almost startled him into dropping  
the lantern. _That's a lovely headline, Vecchio: Crazed Mountie and Mentally  
Challenged Chicago Detective Die in Oil Fire_. "Fraser, what the _hell_  
are you doing?"

"Your ears, Ray," he murmured in one.

Ray shivered. "What about them?"

"The lobes," he said, squeezing them gently. His mouth was inches away  
from Ray's neck. "They're a little swollen already. It could be nothing.  
We'll have to wait till morning to be sure."

The detective shook him off. Suddenly the idea of having Ben touching  
him this way lost its appeal. "Oh, Christ, Fraser, are you telling me my  
_ears_  
are going to turn black?"

"I'm only saying they might, Ray," he assured him.

"Well, thanks for clarifying that. That's definitely the thought I want  
to sleep on."

"We can get you some antibiotics."

"Forget it." He turned from Ben and began viciously tugging off the  
rest of his gear.

"Would you like something to drink?"

He snorted. "You got any moose juice?"

"No," Ben said, his voice muffled as he rifled through his cupboards,  
"but I _do_ have some cognac, I think. I think a hot toddy might be  
in order, don't you?"

Ray gaped. "This from the man who shuns mouthwash and cough syrup because  
of the alcohol content?"

"This is different, Ray. Ah," he said, turning with the bottle in his  
hand. "What do you say?"

"What the hell," Ray said. "It'll be worth it for the sake of anthropology,  
if nothing else."

Stripped down to his own long johns and socks, Ray was beginning to  
feel the cold now, the fire still building strength. He wrapped himself  
in Ben's quilt and sat down on the bed. Dief had already claimed his place  
by the fire, the same place Ray and Ben would later argue over. _Shame.  
It could be both of us. Or neither..._ Ben was busily boiling water,  
setting out cups, and arranging what looked like a hell of a lot of stuff  
Ray hoped was not going in his mug. When everything was tidied and retidied  
to the farthest extreme possible, Ben turned and blessed Ray with his most  
winning smile.

"Would you like to listen to some music?"

Ray collapsed on the bed. "Yeah, sure, Benny. We'll send out smoke signals  
to that guy from the jug band on the other side of the forest and have  
ourselves a hoedown right here in the cabin."

Ben shook his head. "We're not totally primitive, Ray. I bought a small  
portable stereo."

He grinned. "When you could have donated that money to the Stuttering  
Foundation of America?"

The Mountie flushed guiltily. "I bought some recordings, too."

"Oh my God. Do you have any _idea_ how many Hail Marys you get  
for that?"

"If you're just going to make remarks--"

"No, no. Benny, come on, I'm sorry. Put something on." _I like Nana  
Mouskouri just as much as the next guy_.

Ben produced the stereo and bent over it, supplying Ray with another  
tantalizing view of his perfectly rounded ass. _Go on, Raimondo. Reach  
out, squeeze..._ A moment later, the cabin was filled with vibrant guitar  
and some crazy woman singing in a language Ray had never heard before in  
his life. _That's not Nana Mouskouri, anyway_.

"What the hell is _that_?"

Ben looked up from his portable stereo, surprised. "It's Susan Aglukark,  
Ray. She's very popular here."

"What is that, like the French loving Jerry Lewis?"

"Ray--"

"Or the Germans loving David Hasselhoff?" Ray grinned, warming to the  
topic now.

"I can turn it off if it's disturbing to you."

"Naw, Benny, that's okay. I was just teasing." The shrill whistling  
of Ben's kettle cut off whatever the Mountie was about to say. For the  
next several moments, he busied himself with preparing the toddies. Ray  
was struck by an idea and began digging around in his bags. "Hey, Benny,  
you want to play Monopoly?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Monopoly," he repeated, extracting the box from his bag. "Brought it  
from home."

"What on earth for?"

Ray scowled at him. "I am not _whittling_ all night, Benny."

"I thought we could... talk."

"So we'll talk while we play. What's the problem?"

"I've never played," Ben said, eying the box warily.

"So I'll kick your ass while we talk," Ray grinned. "I don't got a problem  
with that."

Ben handed him a mug. "I suppose there's no harm in it."

"It's just a game, Fraser. No fatalities yet. Maybe a couple of divorces--"

"That's not true, Ray."

He sniffed his toddy. _That's better than I expected_. "What's  
in here, anyway?"

"Cognac, hot water, cinnamon, lemon... There was a woman in Smithsburg  
who was charged with second-degree assault for striking her husband in  
the head with a Monopoly board."

"What?"

"It's true, Ray. Shortly thereafter she apparently flung the Thanksgiving  
turkey out onto the lawn--"

"Just pick a man, all right?" Ray set up the game, doling out the appropriate  
amounts of money, setting up the properties. When he was done, Ben was  
still looking at the assortment of players spread out on the center of  
the board. "What?"

"Well, I thought I'd wait for you to choose, Ray."

"First rule, Benny, and pay attention, because this is the important  
one: in Monopoly, it's every man for himself."

"But Ray--"

"Don't start with me, Fraser. Pick a man." Ben stretched out a hand,  
and-- predictably-- chose the guy on the horse. "Hey!" Ray cried. "_I_  
wanted that one."

Ben dropped it immediately. "I--"

"Jesus Christ, Benny, I was only fooling. Here," he said, handing his  
friend the player. "Ride forever."

Ben shook his head. "You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Nope," he said cheerfully. After taking the car for himself, Ray tucked  
the remaining players away. "I'm gonna be the banker, all right?"

"If you say so, Ray."

"Now we roll to see who goes first."

"Ray, if you want to begin--"

The detective let out an explosive sigh. "_Roll_."

The game underway, Ray leaned back and took a sip of his toddy. It was  
a surprisingly heady concoction; Ben appeared to have poured the cognac  
with a heavy hand. The detective resisted the urge to ask if Ben intended  
to get him plastered and take advantage of him. He just watched his friend  
reading his Community Chest card with rapt concentration, and listened  
to the crazy woman singing in the background.

"Hey, Benny?"

"Yes, Ray?"

"Is there any weird crap that _isn't_ popular in Canada?"

"Actually, Ray, it's funny you should mention that, because Robbie Burns  
day is coming up."

Ray was about to ask 'what the hell is that?' again, but thought better  
of it. Ben's eyes gleamed with unexpressed humor. He was clearly dying  
to tell this story. "What happens on Robbie Burns day?" Ray sighed.

"Grown men dress in kilts and participate in events like caber-shooting  
and haggis hurling."

"_Haggis_ hurling?"

"Haggis, Ray," he explained patiently, "is a Scottish delicacy. The  
stuffed stomach of a sheep."

"I don't want to hear this, Benny."

"The contest is to see who can throw it the farthest--"

"Yeah, I can see why you'd want to get rid of it."

"_Ray_."

"Sorry, Benny. Please. Go on."

"One year when we celebrated Robbie Burns day, someone forgot to thaw  
out the haggis the local women had prepared for the event."

"I think I see where this is headed."

"The town champion-- his name was Devon St. John-- attained such a distance  
with his haggis that he struck his brother in the head from across the  
playing field."

Ray choked on his toddy. _Now is not the time, Raimondo, now is definitely  
not the time_. "What--" he gasped. "What happened?"

"Well, he was arrested, Ray. It was common knowledge that his brother  
had recently broken off a liaison with his wife. Many of the locals believed  
this was a calculated attempt on the man's life."

"A vicious haggis attack?"

"It's no laughing matter, Ray."

"Oh, no, certainly not."

Play resumed. After a few turns around the board, Ben refreshed their  
hot toddies. The cabin was warm enough now for Ray to shed his quilt, but  
he was loathe to do so, concerned about breaking the spell that had overtaken  
him. In the firelight, Ben's skin gleamed. His eyes were fathomless. Every  
move he made, every twitch, sent Ray that much closer to activating the  
Vecchio Tornado Technique. He knew it couldn't get any crazier than that.  
If Ben kicked him out, he had no place to go. And Ben would never do that,  
which meant a _very_ tense night, at the least, if Ray was unable  
to restrain himself. _He put Spanish Fly in that goddamned toddy. It's  
probably good for the sinuses or something_. All Ben had to do was smile  
over winning twenty bucks in the beauty contest, and Ray was fully prepared  
to fling the board into the fire and introduce his friend to an altogether  
new definition of male bonding.

"I landed on free parking!"

"What does that mean, Ray?"

He scooped up the wad of Monopoly money that had been collecting steadily  
on the center of the board throughout the game. "It means I'm kicking your  
_ass_,  
man."

"That doesn't seem right, Ray."

"Oh no?"

"Well, admittedly, I'm not the expert--"

"Hang on," Ray said mildly, opening the game box. "I've got the rules  
in here somewhere."

"If you say it's right, Ray, I'm satisfied with that. I know you wouldn't  
cheat."

Ray shook his head. _He seems like an intelligent guy..._  
"Here," he said, handing Ben the booklet. "I don't want my integrity to  
come into question."

"Of course not, Ray. I--" he frowned.

"What?"

"This appears to be Japanese."

"Korean, I think."

His eyes narrowed. "I take it you don't have the English version?"

"Second rule, Benny: they only ship the English rules with the Korean  
version of the game."

"Probably the wisest thing would be to contact the manufacturer, then--"

"Except we can't do that tonight," he said patiently.

"No."

"Your turn," he said with an evil grin.

Ben held his gaze for long moments, silently. Ray schooled his expression  
to betray nothing but his intention to humiliate his friend as thoroughly  
as possible at this game. It was petty, certainly, and meaningless into  
the bargain, but here was a chance to prove once and for all that Ben wasn't  
better than him at everything. Even if Ray had to excel at lying, cheating,  
and general weaseldom, it had to be better than nothing. _I'm probably  
a better kisser, too, but I'm willing to offer some instruction on that  
one..._

Finally Ben broke the stare and picked up the dice, rolling carefully  
and letting them tumble across the board. After collecting his GO money,  
he frowned at his neat stacks of money, considering.

"What's the problem?"

"I think... I'll buy it."

Ray was horrified. "_Baltic?_ You're buying _Baltic?_"

"Is something wrong with that?"

"Yeah there's something wrong with that. Nobody buys _Baltic_,  
Benny."

"The price is quite reasonable, Ray."

"Benny, it's a _board_ game, all right? You don't gotta stick with  
the slums."

His face took on the stubborn, determined cast Ray knew so intimately,  
the very expression he generally wore in the detective's fantasies when  
he said things like _I want you to suck my cock, Ray, and that's all  
there is to it_. The expression he wore in reality when he intended  
to do something honorable, something his grandmother had told him about.  
Something, God forbid, that his father had once mentioned over bowls of  
whole bran and glasses of goat milk. "I believe I'm entitled to buy any  
property I land on," he said.

Ray sighed. "Far be it from me to tell you what to do, Benny." He plucked  
the Baltic card from his stack and squinted at it. "You want to know what  
the most you can make off this is?"

"No."

"Four hundred and fifty bucks, buddy," he said, laughing. "You want  
to know what the most I can make off Atlantic is?"

"Not particularly. Are you going to give me that card?"

"Eleven-fifty. Jesus, Benny, I've got shirts that cost four fifty."

"That's a needless extravagance, Ray. The card?"

"Benny, come on, this is crazy."

"Nevertheless, it's my decision."

"You know what happens to people who lose big at Monopoly, Benny?"

"Well, if we had the rules--"

"You owe the winner for the rest of your life."

"Owe him what?"

"Whatever he wants," Ray said, grinning.

"Well," said Ben, rising, "You spend a great deal of time telling me  
I owe you for things, as it is. I can't see that one more thing is going  
to create much of a burden." He started water for a third round of hot  
toddies. "If I'm going to lose, I'd prefer to lose honorably, not by avarice  
and deceit."

"People _win_ by avarice and deceit, Benny. Nobody lost that way  
since Hans Christian Anderson was still playing little Dutch boy down by  
the dike."

Ben turned away, but not in time to prevent Ray from seeing his smile.  
"Did you just admit you've been cheating, Ray?"

"Can you read Korean?"

Ben shook his head. "You're impossible."

"It's part of my charm." Watching Ben prepare their drinks, Ray became  
aware that the unholy noise issuing forth from Ben's stereo had finally  
ceased. Somewhat apprehensively, Ray said, "Why don't you put something  
else on, Benny?"

"On the stereo?"

Ray smirked. "Didn't you pack your leather pants?" Ben froze. _Oh  
shit, oh fuck... I'm drunk, I'm an idiot..._

Ben knelt by the stereo and began fumbling through the bag that sat  
beside it. After a moment the soft, lilting tones of Sarah McLachlan issued  
from the stereo. Nodding to himself, Ben rose again and prepared their  
drinks.

"You ever listen to any Americans, Benny?"

"Not often, no."

The Mountie was still unnaturally quiet. Rather than wait for him to  
detail just how insulted he was, Ray bounded ahead. "Look, I didn't mean  
anything." _Avarice and deceit, man..._

"That's all right, Ray."

He blinked. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Is it all right that I said it, or all right that I didn't mean anything  
by it?"

"You make no sense, Ray."

"Neither do you, buddy, neither do you." _I am asking for coffee_

_the next time he gets up. This is pathetic_.

They played the next few rounds of the board in relative silence. Ben  
was a remarkably quiet drunk, seemingly disinclined toward melancholy or  
violence. He just sat, and drank, and played with Ray, calmly demanding  
the worst properties available until he owned them all, like some kind  
of deranged Parker Brothers slum lord. Well into his third toddy, his features  
had softened into accessibility, his rigidity into some measure of amicability.  
Either that, or Ray's own inebriation had made him even more deluded than  
he usually was. _Who the hell looks fuckable in black Stanfields?_

"Oh dear," Ben said at last.

"What?"

Ben gave him a strange look. "I landed on Boardwalk."

Ray shook his head. He'd been on an entirely different plane. Now that  
his attention was back on the game, he could hardly believe the carnage  
that lay before him. Virtually all of Ben's properties were mortgaged,  
Ray had every five hundred-dollar bill available, and Ben had three lonely  
ones. Boardwalk would have been a major coup even if Ben had had something  
left to give him. Without a book of comprehensible rules around to contradict  
his claim, Ray had placed seven hotels on the property in a fit of pure  
cruelty. He picked up the card. According to his own convoluted understanding  
of the game, Ben was into him for--

"Fourteen grand, Benny. Pay up."

"That's preposterous."

"Well, if we leave now, we'll hit town by tomorrow afternoon. By which  
time..." He peered at the rule book. "Well, I don't know where the head  
office is or when it closes, but we'll probably have to wait and call the  
next day." Ben's face was full of righteous indignation. "Give it up, man.  
You lose. Not only that, you lose _big_."

"Ray, this isn't very gracious of you."

"I kicked your _ass_!" he laughed. "I slaughtered you! I pounded  
you into the ground! I--"

"Just a moment, Ray."

"What?"

"There must be something I can do to pay my debt."

Between the hot toddies, Ben's proximity, and Ray's general outlook  
of the past few months, the line between cool-headed reason and hot-blooded  
insanity had stretched to near invisibility. Still, he clutched for it.  
"Yeah, like what?"

Ben's eyes met his. "I must have something you want."

Ray grinned. "Oh, sure, Benny, you could always give me your speed-boat,  
right? I've always had a soft spot for that villa in Florence." Ben stood  
abruptly and crossed the cabin to the small window that faced his yard.  
"Hey, I was just kidding," Ray said. "The recipe for these drinks alone  
has gotta be worth fourteen grand."

"I could teach you," Ben said faintly. "It's quite simple, really."

Ray hauled himself to his feet, his poor beleaguered body protesting  
every step of the way. He touched Ben's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Of course."

"You're acting kinda weird, you know?"

"Ray, why did you come with me?"

"What?"

"Why did you come with me? You've done nothing but run the place down  
since we got here, you did nothing but the same on the way. Why did you  
come here?"

"Hey, it's not every day I'm invited to spend two weeks at an exclusive  
resort spot like this. No heat, no running water, no doughnut shops for--  
how many miles?"

"Five hundred," he said absently. "Why did you come, Ray?" The detective  
looked away. Ben captured his jaw in one big hand and turned him back.  
Ray was about to answer when a fragment of music broke through his thoughts.  
_Everybody  
loves you when you're easy..._ And he started to laugh again, nervously,  
uncontrollably. Anything had to be better than telling Ben the truth. _Hell,  
why start now?_

Ben leaned closer, his mouth barely a breath away from Ray's now. "I  
don't want you to think me too base," he murmured, "but I think it's time  
we commenced negotiations."

"Base is good," Ray squeaked.

The Mountie smiled and closed the kiss, winding one hand around Ray's  
skull and the other around his waist. Ray opened his mouth on a moan and  
Ben plunged his tongue inside, winding it around Ray's own, sucking, coaxing.  
No longer content to play it cool, Ray insinuated one hand between their  
bodies and stroked Ben's cock through his long johns. Ben broke away on  
a gasp.

"Wait."

"What?"

"How much is worth fourteen thousand dollars, Ray?"

"_What?_"

"If we had some sort of base rate to start with..."

"Believe me, Benny, it doesn't say anything in the rules about whoring  
yourself to settle a Monopoly debt. Ma would have had a fit."

"How do _you_ know, Ray?"

And how the hell was he supposed to argue that one? "I just know, all  
right?"

Ben thrust his hips sharply against Ray's. The detective went almost  
cross-eyed. "Ray," Ben sighed into his ear before gently licking the shell.  
"We could be in town by morning," he said, mimicking Ray's own taunt. "Possibly  
we'd reach the head office by the following afternoon--"

"Kisses are a dollar," Ray gasped.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. Touches don't even count."

"Oh, I have to disagree."

"For _money_, Benny."

"Mm-hm," he said, sliding his hands beneath Ray's boxers to cup his  
ass. "And sucking..."

"... what?"

"Sucking," he said, louder, demonstrating on Ray's still-swollen ear  
lobe.

"You are so _drunk_."

"I hold my liquor better than you do," he said.

"Well, I still kicked your ass at Monopoly."

He favored Ray with a tolerant smile. "I think I've more than demonstrated  
a willingness to meet my obligations. Now... sucking?"

"Oh my God."

"Ray..." Ben knelt at his feet and stripped off his socks. After shooting  
him a hot glance, Ben bent further and licked Ray's ankle.

"Clarify the location," Ray yelped.

Ben sat back on his haunches and waited. Without his hands to steady  
the detective, Ray swayed ever so slightly. "Nipples," Ben said, smiling  
faintly.

"Jesus Christ. Are you a walk-in, or am I passed out?"

"We could still whittle, if this is too upsetting to you."

"Fuck _that_," Ray said. "Ten bucks."

Ben sighed. "If you're going to lowball it, this is going to take a  
long time."

"It's my fourteen grand, and I'll spend it however I want. You want  
to be out of here by lunch time, _you_ take Korean the fast and fun  
way, all right?"

The Mountie hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Ray's long johns and  
slowly tugged them down. "Perhaps I should write this down. It might get  
confusing, after a while."

"You move and you're a dead man, I swear to God."

"I wouldn't concern myself with that if I were you, Ray. As long as  
I have a debt to settle, I'm beholden to you. Could you--" He gestured  
at Ray's shirt. Without a word, Ray tore it off and flung it across the  
cabin. Ben smiled approvingly. His hands gently kneaded Ray's ass as he  
leaned in and nuzzled the detective's cock through his boxers. Ray watched,  
caught up in a feeling of surreality when Ben's tongue darted out and gave  
him a cautious lick. "Ray, how--"

"A hundred," he rasped.

"That's all?"

"Shit, half the whores in Chicago should be so lucky to get-- oh, _fuck_!"  
Before he knew what was happening, his boxers were down around his ankles  
and his cock was in Ben's mouth. Ben's hands cupped his balls almost reverently,  
his tongue working around the head of the detective's cock. Ray thrust  
deep inside, meeting almost no resistance. "Oh God, oh _Benny_..."  
Ben released him suddenly, his features marred by a troubled frown.

"What... what..."

"Ray, would you--" Ben broke off and turned away, shamefaced.

"Would I what?" Ray asked softly. It took some doing to bring himself  
back to even partial alertness, but he managed. Given their positions,  
any kind of heartfelt discussion was going to fall more on the side of  
comical, but Ray decided to give it a shot. Cupping the Mountie's jaw in  
his hand, he turned Ben's face back to face his own. "Benny?" Ben still  
wouldn't meet his eyes. "Come on, Benny, we're friends first, right?"

Ben gave him a helpless, desperate look. "Say something Italian," he  
said in a low voice.

"You want me to say something _Italian_?" Ben nodded, breaking  
eye contact once again. "You pervert, Benny!" Ray knelt beside him and  
kissed him before he could apologize; a slow, wet, coaxing, reassuring  
kiss. Ben's eyes were dark when he pulled back, his lips red and swollen.  
"I don't know any Italian, Benny."

He looked stricken. "You don't?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, buddy."

"I want you to know this doesn't change how I feel about you, Ray,"  
he said seriously.

"It's just as well, anyway."

"Why is that?"

"I'd have to add to your debt."

"Where am I now?"

Ray thought. "If I give you that last kiss?" Ben nodded. "You still  
owe me thirteen thousand, nine hundred, and forty-eight dollars."

His eyes widened. "But I--"

"You didn't finish, man. I can only be so generous."

With a strangely predatory smile, Ben gripped Ray's hips and swallowed  
him whole. The sound he wrung from the detective would have been embarrassing  
to Ray under any other circumstances, but all he cared about was the sensation.  
Heat, suction, _Benny_. His hands in Ben's hair, Ben's hands on his  
ass, the fine fuck and slide of his cock into that surprisingly mobile  
mouth. _There's one Inuit story I'd be happy to hear_. No matter how  
hard he thrust, how deep, how fast, Ben took it and gave it back in spades.  
Ray felt a flush creeping along his skin, heat and pleasure radiating out  
from his cock to suffuse him with warmth. His head fell back, his mouth  
fell open, every thought flying out of his head but _Benny_ and the  
music that still filled the room. _Will we burn in heaven like we do  
down here..._ Ben slid one slick finger into Ray's ass, and the detective  
bucked minutely.

"_Si paga in piu per questo?_"

Later, Ray would be unable to decide whether that had been the best  
or worst time to surprise his friend. Ben jerked, sucking at least twice  
as hard as he had been, sliding his finger deep inside Ray's ass. Ray shouted,  
his body convulsed, and he came harder than he ever had in his life, hard  
enough that he was vaguely concerned about losing IQ points, hard enough  
that he nearly blacked out. Ben caught him just as his knees unlocked,  
lowering him gently to the floor.

"Ray?"

Ben tugged the detective's boxers all the way off and covered him with  
his quilt. Ray was boneless, speechless, panting. He felt like one big  
sweat gland, maybe a little twitchy, but otherwise all right.

"_Ray_."

"My fault," he said.

"One lie leads to another, Ray."

He groaned and rolled to his side, propping up his head with one hand.  
"Why do I get the impression this situation isn't completely unfamiliar  
to you?"

"Does that bother you?"

"Oh, Benny, no. There is nothing worse than a bad blow job." Ben flushed.  
Ray grinned. "Too base?"

"No."

Ray pulled himself up to a sitting position and began fussing at Ben's  
clothes. When Ben yanked his shirt over his head, Ray rewarded him with  
a kiss. "_Quanti?_" he murmured. Ben's eyes darkened. _Man, did  
I win the lottery, or what?_ "Benny..." he licked the Mountie's jaw.  
"_Era molti ragazzi?_"

Ben shuddered. "Ray, you may know Italian, but I don't."

"Big mistake, telling me that. Now I can say whatever I want, and you're  
not going to know the difference."

"According to you, it works the same in English with me-- ah!" Ray silenced  
him with a lick to his nipple. It peaked immediately, a special effect  
so impressive to Ray that he tried it again on the other one. Ben arched  
into his mouth, exposing his neck, offering his mouth.

"Man, if I'd known you were this easy--"

"How do you say that?" Ben gasped.

"_Facile_," he said, grinning. "You're really into that, aren't  
you?" He lowered his friend to the quilt and began a slow lick down his  
body, beginning with the jaw.

"You have no idea," he gasped. "Every time you say 'parmesan' I break  
out in a sweat."

"Just me?"

"Always you," Ben said. "Do you... oh, _Ray_..." His voice trailed  
off when Ray's tongue slid into his ear. He squirmed. "Yes..."

Ray settled himself on top of the Mountie, ostensibly to conserve their  
body heat. Ben's chest, so smooth, was a perfect contrast to his own furry  
one. Their hips fit perfectly, their legs tangled pleasingly, if not in  
cosmic alignment. And Ben's cock, sliding against Ray's with each tiny  
thrust, was quietly destroying whatever meager concentration the detective  
had. "Do I what, Benny?"

"Oh..." His hands cupped Ray's ass, encouraged a return thrust. Ray  
licked his throat, bit his collar bone. "A few months ago. Your mother  
prepared an elaborate dish for my birthday."

Understanding dawned. "Ah. Rigatoni Quatro Formaggio." Ben bucked, nearly  
unseating him. "Hey, take it easy, buddy, it's just a pile of noodles."

The Mountie wrapped one big hand around Ray's head and drew him in for  
a slow kiss, Ben's hips still undulating beneath him. Ray rumbled happily  
into his mouth, his tongue memorizing every ridge and plane of Ben's mouth,  
the texture of his tongue, the sharp edges of his teeth. "You must have  
said it fifteen times that night, you were so impressed she'd made it."

Ray's eyes widened. "Oh, Benny..."

He smiled. "That was quite a birthday."

"Hey, if I'd known you were so kinky, I'd have spent the night singing  
the highlights of _Carmen_ outside your window."

"Someone usually does," he sighed. "Not necessarily beneath _my_  
window..."

The detective slid carefully down Ben's torso, mouthing his nipples  
again. "You know, Benny, I don't think we're going to cover your debt tonight."

"Are you tired, Ray?"

"Naw, just realistic. I don't want to die here, man."

"Perhaps we should discuss some sort of payment plan."

"I warn you, Benny, I'm a big believer in interest."

Ray plunged his tongue into Ben's navel. "Whatever you think is fair,  
Ray," he moaned.

"With that attitude, you're just _begging_ somebody to screw you."

"I thought I'd already made that statement plain."

"We're going to have to work on your innuendo, buddy." He parted Ben's  
legs and knelt between them. The Mountie's cock was thick and hard, his  
erection unrelieved. "Oh, Benny..." Propped up on his elbows, Ben regarded  
him through half-lidded eyes, a welcoming, knowing smile on his face. His  
skin was flushed, his breath coming out of him in pants. He lay before  
Ray as the detective had always imagined him, as he had never thought Ben  
could ever be. A splendid, intensely sexy display of debauchery, mildly  
drunk and waiting to be fucked within an inch of his life. "Are you sure?"  
It sounded stupid to him already, but he couldn't have picked a better  
man to be stupid with.

"Do it. Please."

Ray grinned. "Polite to the end, that's my Benny--"

"Ray!"

"_Sta' fermo_," he murmured. He bent and applied his tongue to  
the crease between Ben's leg and torso. When he rasped it along the underside  
of Ben's balls, the Mountie moaned extravagantly, his hips rising from  
the floor. Ray took advantage of Ben's position to hook his thumbs beneath  
his lover's knees and pull his legs over his shoulders. Now he had access  
to all the best parts, from head to toe. _Give me some pretzels and the  
occasional sponge bath, and I'm in heaven_. "_Si puo spostare on po'  
piu in la?_"

"Ray..."

"Don't worry about it, buddy." He nuzzled Ben's cock, mouthed his balls,  
ran his tongue around the shaft, until Ben writhed beneath him, squirmed,  
really, his voice grown husky, his vocabulary a thing of the past. "Hey,  
Benny?"

"Oh God, _what_?"

"How long..?"

"I can't think right now, I-- _Ray_!" He bucked when Ray took him  
into his mouth, and the detective choked. He hadn't been expecting that  
of his oh-so-considerate friend. He backed off immediately, but Ben wasn't  
expecting _that_, and his cock thumped Ray in the cheek on the next  
thrust, a disappointed moan already halfway formed before Ray could protest.

"Take it easy, man."

"_Please_."

Ray squinted in the dim light from the fireplace and grabbed the bottle  
of lube from its perch on the table. He shook his head, held the bottle  
closer for better inspection.

"What's the matter?"

"I brought KY Jelly."

"So?"

"This... is _Astroglide_."

"What difference does it make?"

"It makes a big difference, Benny, all right?" He dropped Ben's legs  
from his shoulders and backed away. "You brought me here to seduce me!"

Ben's jaw dropped. "Ray, I--"

"It's all making sense to me now. You take me on a romantic moonlit  
stroll--"

"In the forest, at a temperature _well_ below freezing--"

"You bring me back here and get me liquored up--"

"On something that had you checking my wall for the number for the Poison  
Control Centre--"

"You turn on some mood music--"

"That you could barely stand--"

"Then you _toss_ yourself at me like some dime store floozy who  
can't even say no to Jehovah's Witnesses on the Home Shopping Network--  
_oh_

__I  
bet you thought you were so _smooth_!"

"Still, I notice you weren't complaining," Ben said bitterly, wrapping  
himself modestly in the quilt and crossing the cabin to glare at Ray. "You  
were only too happy to succumb when you thought it was your idea."

"It _was_ my idea!" Ray paced, glaring at Ben on each return trip.  
Already the heat from the fire proved less substantial than that of the  
quilt. Or Ben. His erection was fading rapidly, his skin shimmering with  
goosebumps. With a regretful sigh, he bent to retrieve his boxers.

"Ray, don't."

He snorted. "Sure. _Now_ you take control."

"Please. Come here." Ben held the quilt partway open. No invitation  
could be more appealing than that. He stepped closer, and Ray allowed Ben  
to fold him into his embrace. "Why should it matter whose idea this was?"

"It just _does_, all right?" He grumbled against Ben's neck. "I've  
been working on you for months. If I'd known all I had to do was get you  
plastered and say 'Chef Boyardee'--" Ben covered his mouth. Together they  
fell back against the wall, hips bumping together delightfully. Ray wound  
his arms around Ben's waist and tugged him into even closer contact.

"Ray... please..."

"Please..?"

"_Please_, I'm so--" he sucked in a harsh breath when Ray wrapped  
one hand around his cock and began to stroke.

"I love your hands," Ben murmured. "I've never seen anything so beautiful  
in my life... oh... except your neck," he said, devouring it with his lips.  
"And your buttocks--"

"Benny, nobody says buttocks, all right?" He tried to sound irritated,  
but it was beyond him. The closer Ben came to orgasm, the more he had to  
say on the subject of Ray's ethereal beauty, his strength, his humanity.  
"Ma always said never to trust a man who says he loves you when you're  
having sex." Ben froze. "Well, she said it to Frannie, but I was in the  
room. You know what I mean."

"Most men don't say it any other time, Ray. Unless they're intoxicated."

"We're having sex _and_ we're intoxicated."

"And..."

"And I'm not saying it," he said, backing Ben toward the bed. "I don't  
want to seem trite."

"Perish the thought," he smiled.

Abruptly, they came up against the bed. Ben gave him a 'what now?' smile.  
"Benny?"

"You love me?"

"No. _Ho fame_." He stripped Ben of the quilt and shoved him, hard.  
He was on top of his friend at once, hands everywhere, mouth alternately  
punishing and rewarding whatever he could find until Ben was pleading with  
him almost continuously. _Faster, Ray, harder, Ray, please...  
_"Roll  
over, Benny." Ray tucked a pillow beneath his hips. "Have I ever told you  
what a beautiful ass you have?"

"Not in so many words."

He pinched it. "Nice _buttocks_, Constable."

"Now, Inspector Thatcher--"

"Benny!"

He strained his neck to grin at Ray. "Have you decided which lubricant  
you'll use?"

"Oh, man, this is like some weird sex-ed video that got banned in the  
south." He paused. "What did your father tell you about this?"

His eyes darkened. "That's hardly appropriate, Ray."

"Just checking." He left the bed and came back with Ben's Astroglide.  
Parting the Mountie's cheeks, he slowly ran his tongue around Ben's asshole.  
Ben jerked. "Don't tell me you haven't done that, Benny. My heart couldn't  
stand the shock."

"Only once, Ray. He didn't care for the taste."

Ray grinned. "I'll bet he didn't last long."

"A matter of weeks, actually."

"Well, not everyone has your weird oral fixations."

"I consider myself fortunate that we're so well matched."

Ray slicked his hand and slid two fingers inside Ben. The Mountie backed  
into him, welcoming and eager. "I had no idea," he muttered. "All this  
time, and I had no idea."

"It's all right, Ray," he gasped.

"Easy for _you_ to say. All this time you've been getting your  
rocks off with every guy in town, and I've been asking my doctor if you  
can get testicular cancer from blue balls."

"The two conditions aren't related, Ray. In fact--" he broke off when  
Ray pushed the head of his cock into his ass. "Oh... yes... the two conditions--  
_Ray_."

"_Mio dio_," he whispered. "Benny... _bene_..." He folded  
himself over Ben's back, gliding smoothly now, biting his lover's neck.

"Faster, Ray. Please..." He bucked beneath the detective, pulling him  
even deeper inside, urging him on. "Ray, _harder_."

Through his pleasure-filled haze, Ray could scarcely make out what the  
hell he was talking about. And Ben would never say it. Still, his meaning  
was clear enough. _Don't make love to me, fuck me_. He grinned  
and thrust again, slowly, planting kisses between his lover's shoulder  
blades. "Oh, baby..."

"_Ray!_"

The detective pulled almost all the way out, then thrust hard, viciously,  
his hands tight on Ben's hips.

"Yes! Ray, that's it! Yes!"

"Oh, Benny, you really are a pervert."

"Do it!"

Ray thrust again, brutally, and again. He had only ever imagined fucking  
someone this hard. Part of him hoped this wasn't the only way Ben liked  
it, but another part was pure _yee haw!_ He decided to go with that,  
for the time being, thrusting again, this time so hard that Ben's hips  
came up off the bed. After a few false starts, he and Ben settled into  
a fast, driving rhythm. Ben's hands clutched at the sheets, hoarse cries  
in that super hero voice of his pushing Ray that much farther over the  
edge.

His orgasm took him by surprise, paralyzing him even as Ben flung himself  
backward to meet Ray's thrusts. As perfectly attuned to him as ever, Ben  
came just after he began, his inner muscles milking Ray for all he was  
worth. He sank his teeth deep into Ben's shoulder, letting his friend take  
the brunt of his cries even as Ben gave up his own. They collapsed on the  
bed in a heap of limbs and a duet of exhausted gasps.

"What the hell was _that_?" Ray said when he could keep a breath.

"I... don't know. I quite liked it, though."

"Mm." He pulled the quilt around them and wrapped himself around Ben's  
body, burrowing his face into the Mountie's neck. Ben's arms surrounded  
him automatically, as if by habit, almost.

"We didn't agree on a price," Ben said.

"I don't think I have enough to cover that one, Benny."

"I meant me, Ray."

"Whatever," he mumbled. Incredible. He was already dozing off. _I'm  
going to be one big ache tomorrow, boy_...

"Ray?"

"Mm?"

"Are you falling asleep?"

"Maybe."

He felt Ben's hand stroke his head. "We aren't having sex now."

"I'm still not saying it, Benny."

Ben clutched him tighter. "All right, Ray."


End file.
